


A Lesson in Pining

by acab



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canon Gay Relationship, Fix-It, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-11-02 11:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20723105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acab/pseuds/acab
Summary: Puberty had given Eddie softer hair and a better jawline. It just slapped some acne and a growth spurt onto Richie.Eddie rolled his eyes and stepped aside for Mike, Ben, and Stan. “Whatever. At least I’ve actually had a girlfriend, unless our resident world-renowned “ladies man”.”“I have had a girlfriend, idiot.” Everyone frowned together, as if trying to think of when Richie had ever mentioned actually having a girlfriend. “Your mom!” Eddie lurched forward to grab Richie by his throat.





	A Lesson in Pining

**Author's Note:**

> apologies if any of this reads weird, i haven't written for them in two years and i started this immediately after i woke up :] hooray for gay rights.

_ 1990 _

“Do I look okay?” Eddie turned around to look himself over in the mirror. Richie looked up from his comic, seemingly uninterested, and looked Eddie up and down. He looked  _ good.  _ He looked grown, almost. They were fourteen then, and Eddie was getting ready for a date. The Losers had teased him for it, mostly just happy that he’d been the first one of them to actually get out there and go after a girl. Richie, obviously, acted appalled that  _ he  _ hadn’t been the first. It was a good act, as most of his were, in his opinion. Real funny. He was wearing knee-length shorts, complete with  _ long socks  _ and  _ garters,  _ probably assigned to him by Sonia, as if he didn’t know how to hold up his own goddamn socks. He looked professional, which was  _ stupid,  _ because Eddie was more likely to start throwing shit around during a meeting than to sit there and listen to them talk about  _ finances  _ or  _ statistics  _ or stupid shit like that.

Richie was almost (extremely) upset that he wasn’t the girl Eddie was taking to the diner. “Yeah. You look lame. Girls like that!” He turned his attention back to his comic and settled further into the hammock. It dug into his arm uncomfortably. At Eddie’s scoff, he sighed and closed his comic, resting it on his stomach. “You look  _ fine,  _ Eds. I’m sure…” he gestured vaguely, “this… girl…”

“Melody.”

_ Fucking Melody? The fuck kind of name is that?  _ “Melody,” he added, “will think you look great. You do! You’ll, uh. You’ll kill it. You’ve helped kill some sort of demon-alien-space-God-creature, what’s a date, huh?” Eddie rolled his eyes and Richie smiled. Eddie really did look nice. “Hey.” Eddie looked at him in the mirror. It was a little dirty, some mud caked onto the side, but when your hangout spot is underground, that can’t exactly be helped. “You’re gonna do great. You should probably go soon, it’s—”

“Come over here.” Richie blinked. He went to say something, but Eddie cut him off. “I just—c’mere.” Richie stood slowly, braced for Eddie to jokingly hit him or something for joking around. He walked over, just four inches behind Eddie, and let out a quiet  _ oumph!  _ when Eddie wrapped his arms around him. He buried his face against Richie’s shoulder and took a deep breath. 

“Are you—are you  _ smelling me?” _

“Shut the fuck up, I’m having a panic attack. I think. I don’t know.” Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie, putting one hand on the back of his head, careful to not mess up his hair. “Can you—fuck. This is so stupid. Will you take me? If she doesn’t show up, I don’t want to look stupid, and people are used to us going there.” 

Richie wanted to kick himself in the teeth as a tiny sliver of want for  _ Melody  _ to not show up. “Sure. Give her the best friend one-two.”

“I’m pretty sure she’d kick your ass. Shit, I have to be there soon. Let’s go.” Richie ignored the feeling in his chest at Eddie letting go. They climbed out of the ground, covering the door with leaves. Richie helped pull some dirt and leaves out of Eddie’s hair before they both mounted their bikes to head back into town. When Richie was watching out for cars, he realised that Eddie was missing not only his fanny pack, but his watch. It had hit noon already, and the beeping hadn’t gone off. He smiled. Eddie was finally,  _ finally  _ able to relax from his meds. Even if it had just been for that date, it was a step to not needing it at all, placebo or not. 

When Richie saw the diner coming into view, his stomach dropped. There was a girl outside in a blue dress, hair curled and thumbs twiddling. He’d seen her before, though that wasn’t uncommon in such a small town. She  _ looked  _ like a Melody. “That’s her! Oh, man, she looks… wow. I can go by myself from here.” Eddie looked over his shoulder, back at Richie. “Thanks.” 

Richie gave him a thumbs up and a wide smile. “Go get ‘er, Eds.” He watched as Eddie rode closer to the diner, coming to a surprisingly smooth stop in front of Melody. He struggled to get off of his bike, which she giggled at, and they went inside together. Richie mounted his bike once more, the bitter taste of unwanted and unnecessary jealousy flooding his mouth as he rode home. He pushed his legs harder than usual, his lungs burning with what other people would call asthma and he would call a good time. 

He was tempted to stop by Stan’s house, curl up in his bed and refuse to leave until Andrea or Donald asked him to. He didn’t want to  _ tell  _ him why he was upset, though, and a long enough Look from Stan could get anyone to spill their secrets. Besides, it was stupid. He was glad that Eddie was finally getting out. He was  _ ecstatic!  _ It was good. 

It was good. 

It was good.

It  _ wasn’t,  _ though. 

He let his bike crash in his own yard, clambering off of it and simply pushing the door open. He grit his teeth. “Mama, you have to start locking the door. The people in town are, like… crazy. They’ll just come in and take shit.” He grinned at her and put on a British accent as he said, “Gonna steal all our belongin’s, Mummy! Take our telly and our bones! No? Okay.”

Maggie smiled at him and put down her book on her stomach, mirroging almost exactly Richie’s actions from earlier. “Did you go down to your clubhouse again?” Richie nodded as he flopped down next to her and put his head on her shoulder. “You seem a little out of it. You okay?” Richie nodded again and Maggie patted the top of his head. “We’re having chicken and rice tonight. Maybe that’ll lift your spirits. You wanna invite some of the boys over? Maybe Beverly, or Stan?”

Richie shrugged and she put her arm around his shoulders for a half-hug. “I’m fine, Mom, really. Just… Eddie stuff.” She clicked her tongue and nodded knowingly. “I’m gonna go lay down.” He let his mom press a kiss to the top of his head before wiggling off of the couch and up the stairs. He threw his door open and pointed accusingly at his bed before flopping down into it and letting out a half-hearted scream.

_ 1992 _

Bev leaned against the wall of the clubhouse and stared down at Richie, who was curled up under a blanket on the hammock. She lit a cigarette and threw the lighter at his legs. “Rich. Hey. Hey. Trashmouth. Four-Eyes. Come on, what’s wrong with you? What happened?” Richie looked up at her and she sighed. “I don’t get you, sometimes.”

“Yeah.” He pulled the blanket up to his nose and frowned. “Hey, Bev?”

“A’yeah?”

“I’m gay.” 

She raises her eyebrows and takes a drag from her cigarette before replying with, “I know.”

_ “How?” _

She gives him a Look, a similar one to Stan’s. “Never once have you ever mentioned having a crush on any woman other than our moms. I’ve seen how you look at men, how you look at  _ Eddie,  _ those magazines under your bed. You’re not exactly subtle, Rich.” His ears were burning from embarrassment. “I thought you and Eddie were a thing until he started dating that one girl.”

“What? Oh, god, gross!” Richie laughs and shakes his head. “Come on, Bev, be real. I’d never—he’s—uh.”

“I’m pretty sure boys don’t cuddle with each other unless they’re both into each other. I get it, you’re a touchy guy, you hang off of all of us all the time, but you don’t actively ask to  _ spoon  _ with anyone other than him. And I’m pretty sure you kiss his shoulders. Which, like… dude. If you’re trying to hide your crush or whatever it is, you’re not exactly doing a great job.”

Richie pulled the blanket up to his nose again. “I guess,” he mumbled. “I don’t know. It’s not that deep, it’s just, uh… first interactions with people, leaves, uh… yeah, okay.”

“Rich—”

“Maybe I’ve been in love with him since we met! Maybe! Who knows? I sure fucking don’t. You think he likes me back? I don’t think he does.”

_ “Richie—” _

“Eddie’s like, totally—”

“Eddie’s what now?” Eddie and Bill said in unison as they jumped down into the clubhouse. 

“A virgin,” Richie said, easily. He sat up and let the blanket pool around his waist. He looked Bill and Eddie up and down as more footsteps and voices sounded from above.  _ The gang’s all here.  _ Eddie was wearing his stupid red shorts. He’d barely grown since middle school, he just actually  _ fit  _ into his clothes. He looked good. He  _ always  _ did, which wasn’t fair. Sure, Richie had gotten braces and he’d gotten better, less buggy glasses, but he hadn’t lost the roundness of his face in the slightest. Puberty had given Eddie softer hair and a better jawline. It just slapped some acne and a growth spurt onto Richie. 

Eddie rolled his eyes and stepped aside for Mike, Ben, and Stan. “Whatever. At least I’ve actually had a girlfriend, unless our resident world-renowned “ladies man”.”

“I have had a girlfriend, idiot.” Everyone frowned together, as if trying to think of when Richie had ever mentioned actually having a girlfriend. “Your mom!” Eddie lurched forward to grab Richie by his throat.

_ 1994 _

Richie nuzzled against Eddie’s hair and sighed. They were both stoned out of their minds, halfway through winter break, and curled up in Richie’s bed, his blanket pooled around their feet. Eddie took Richie’s hand in his own and brought it up to his lips. “Rich,” he said, softly, “are we dating?”

Richie shrugged and closed his eyes. “Dunno. Are we?”

“I kind of want to be.”

“Then I guess we are. Man… you’re my boyfriend now. Not, like… my boy friend. A lot of my friends are boys. You’re my boyfriend. My, uhh… what’s the word? The one, like… Victorian poets use. My  _ lover.  _ Eddie, my love.”

Eddie laughed and put his other hand on the back of Richie’s head. “How long have you liked me?” 

Richie hummed and pulled back so he could look at Eddie’s face. His hair was longer, then. Richie reached forward to brush a lock out from in front of his face. “A long time, I think. I can’t remember when I didn’t. Are we high?”

“I think so.”

“I love you, Eds. Eddie, my love… that’s cute. Cute, cute, cute! Just like you.”

Eddie put his hand on Richie’s face and laughed. 

In that moment, Richie wasn’t sure that anyone else existed. They were eighteen, they were  _ together  _ in every way, they could have done anything they wanted. Richie almost felt like he could kill God, if he wanted to. With Eddie by his side, he was pretty sure he could do anything. Even if it meant facing off… something that he couldn’t quite reach in the foggy recesses of his mind.

_ 2017 _

Richie watched carefully as Eddie chopped up some celery, arms wrapped around his waist and chin on his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if Eddie had even noticed, so focused on his vegetables that he hadn’t even acknowledged Richie’s presence. It had been a year since they were reunited, almost exactly. Richie could still remember the first time he had seen Eddie again, his heart twisting and pulsing uncomfortably with an emotion he knew he hadn’t felt in a long time.

They’d respected each other’s wish to wait until Eddie’s divorce to even talk about anything. When it was finalised, Eddie stormed into their hotel room and grabbed Richie by his face, planting a kiss thirty years overdue on his lips. They talked about everything,  _ everything  _ then. From their memories of being apart to reminiscing about the times they spent together. 

But they were okay.

They were okay, they were safe, they were  _ together.  _ They had a dog—not a Pomeranian, despite how amusing Richie thought it would be—and a house together. They were both successful, and Richie would bounce jokes off of Eddie all the time just to gauge his reaction. It wasn’t always the best way to tell if something was funny, because even if it wasn’t, Eddie would normally laugh at how funny Richie thought it was. 

The Losers all did a group video call bi-weekly, just to make sure they wouldn’t forget each other. Since It was dead, the magic was, too, but they were under the impression that you could never be too careful. Stan would sit there and roll his eyes as Richie and Eddie quarrelled in front of everybody, as they had when they were kids. Mike and Bev, as always, were the voices of reason and well-timed quips. Richie imagined that if they were all together in person, they’d be high-fiving. 

Eddie’s hands were worn, rough,  _ man  _ hands, something Richie had teased them about as kids, but he’d definitely grown into them. Richie liked watching him work with them, even if it was just while he was cooking. 

“What’s on your mind? You’re thinking too loud, it’s distracting.”

“Sorry, babe. Forgot about our totally dope psychic connection. Just… stuff. Not bad stuff, good stuff. The best.”

“So me?”

Richie grinned and pressed a tender kiss to Eddie’s throat. “Yeah. You.”

**Author's Note:**

> bet you thought this everybody lives/nobody dies wouldn't include stan huh. WRONG! people who don't include him are cowards and bastards.


End file.
